


Hold That Thought

by chasesstarlight



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Anal Fingering, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-17 12:47:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11851881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasesstarlight/pseuds/chasesstarlight
Summary: Drew realizes there's more than one way to keep Mustafa from moving around in impractical, unsafe ways. This method's way more fun.





	Hold That Thought

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RedLeaderfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLeaderfic/gifts).



> Who asked, and I quote:  
> "How SUPER into seeing Mustafa tied up would Drew be?"
> 
> I am more than happy to explore this important query. :D Hope you enjoy!

__________

  
  


Drew’s pretty sure Mustafa isn’t taking this whole thing seriously. He hears a grin in Mustafa's voice as he comments, “You realise this is going to be just as successful as making me stay put as everything else you’ve tried, right?” Drew feels him flex his wrist where he’s just finished tying it to the cast-iron bed frame. It’s a wretch to crinkle his nice neckties for this, but he has a hunch it’ll be worth the extra ironing and in either case, it was the only thing he had on hand that’d be comfortable, wouldn’t chafe. (He tells himself it’s to prevent marks on Mustafa’s wrists and subsequent questions about their origins, the day after.)

 

He rolls his eyes at Mustafa, who’s alternately fidgeting a bit and running his free hand up Drew’s side. Drew catches his wrist and presses it down above his head, leaning down to tie it next to the other and stifling a smile as Mustafa kisses whatever he can reach - neck first, then collarbone, then down his chest as Drew moves forward so he can see what he’s doing. From this vantage point, Drew easily pins Mustafa down with a hand, marvelling at seeing him contained for once, but after a second or so he feels strong legs wrap around him from behind and he’s casually flipped to the foot of the bed.

 

For a moment, Drew’s disoriented - how the hell did that happen? He can’t see Mustafa’s face from this angle, but the laughter from the other end of the bed paints enough of a picture. Drew snorts, and while Mustafa’s distracted, he quickly ties another necktie to the frame, this time to the foot of the bed. He catches Mustafa’s foot and quickly loops the tie around his ankle, satisfied at the surprised yelp and then the sharp tug at the tie. He has some range of movement, which should prove entertaining, but it’s tight enough to prevent him from somehow throwing Drew out the bedroom window with only his legs or something.

 

Mustafa tests the ties at his wrists and leg for a moment, but while he could probably untie the knots if given the time, he can’t just pull free and pounce on Drew. Excellent. After taking a nice moment to watch him struggle, Drew straddles him, carefully keeping some weight on his free leg to keep him pinned and leaning down for a kiss.

 

From the corner of his eye, Drew sees Mustafa’s hands alternately wrap around the bedframe and tangle in the ties, clearly itching to touch the way he normally would. A few times, he sees him start to reach out, only to reach the end of the leeway his wrists have. When Drew reaches down to trail a hand over his inner thigh, he straight-up yanks at the restraints and makes a frustrated noise at the back of his throat, hips twitching where Drew still has him pinned in place.

 

“Control freak in all things, then,” says Mustafa, audibly trying to control his breathing. “If only you could tie three out of four limbs down in matches, your life would be so easy.”

 

Faintly amused, Drew replies, “Well, it’d keep you from eventually breaking your neck with all the idiotic flying. But this,” he continues, punctuated by a kiss to Mustafa’s temple, “is mostly for enjoyment’s sake.”

 

Drew moves off of Mustafa for a moment then, sitting back and taking a moment to take in the sight. Mustafa’s still intermittently messing with the ties, twisting his wrists to test how far he can move them, using his free leg to try the necktie on his other ankle with impressive flexibility, but he’s clearly losing focus. When Drew runs a hand down his waist, past his hips and over his thigh, he hears a shuddering breath and sees Mustafa’s hands clench and unclench fruitlessly. Well, time to take his mind off the escape attempts even further.

 

He leans down over Mustafa’s free leg, keeping it pinned firmly, and first presses a kiss to his hip, feeling him struggle to press back against him. When he wraps his lips around Mustafa’s cock, he first hears the silk snap taut from all directions, then hears a muffled moan. Thigh muscles flex under him, but between the leverage and the ties Mustafa can’t really move anywhere; when Drew glances up, Mustafa’s turned his face to the side, trying to stifle the sounds he’s making into his own arm. His skin is flushed and Drew can feel him twitch with every shaky breath, and he thinks this is about as beautiful as Drew’s ever seen him look.

 

When Drew eases off, Mustafa glares at him through the hair that’s fallen mostly over his face. “Tease,” he mutters, any venom in his voice overshadowed by the frustration.

 

“Certainly not, I am being _thorough_ ,” Drew says. He runs a hand over his own cock through the pants he’d kept on and considers abandoning his plan and just fucking Mustafa - it’s amazingly tempting, but it would also defeat the purpose to lose his self-control now. Instead, he grabs the back of Mustafa’s untied leg, carefully folding it up and watching for signs of discomfort. He’s ridiculously flexible, but presumably there are limits somewhere.

 

Even as Mustafa’s hips are still twitching and he’s audibly trying to catch his breath, he still finds the concentration to try and prod Drew’s ticklish sides with his toes. Drew’s honestly impressed, but doesn’t let it show; instead, he lightly slaps the inside of Mustafa’s thigh in admonishment, filing the answering yelp and the way he arches his back away for future reference. Drew grabs the tube of lubricant he’d set aside and coats his fingers, briefly massaging Mustafa’s ass before slowly pressing his middle finger into him.

 

The response is immediate. There’s another snap of fabric being pulled, and for a moment Drew’s expecting it to tear, which would be a shame. His neckties are evidently up to the task, though, and all he needs to focus on is the attempt Mustafa makes to wrench his leg free of Drew’s hand as he tries to move. Drew presses down hard, holding him there until the flailing stops and Mustafa gives him the time to focus on other things. He carefully moves his finger in and out, watching Mustafa’s eyes flutter shut and hearing his breath catch as he tries to control the noise he’s making.

 

When he adds another finger, the response is far less dramatic - Mustafa’s hips and thighs still twitch as he tries to move back against him, but he seems too distracted to fight the ties again. Instead, he’s making quiet sounds at the back of his throat, halfway between a moan and a hitched breath, and Drew gently kisses the back of the thigh he’s still folding back, smiling at the faint sigh he hears in response.

 

Drew quickly, forcefully moves his fingers back and forth a few times before pressing in _hard_ , making sure to be thorough in his movements. He feels Mustafa clench around him and hears the first real moan. Mustafa’s back arches and Drew sees his toes and fingers curl, and he purposefully strokes that same spot.

 

From this vantage point, Drew’s got the best view he can ever remember having. Mustafa’s lying back on the mattress helplessly, the ties slack as his arms and leg are strewn across the sheets, his one leg somewhat boneless in Drew’s hand. For once in his life he’s not moving around, not trying to get out of any holds - he’s just trying to focus on presssing back against Drew’s fingers and _breathing_ , involuntary sounds escaping with every breath.

 

It only takes a minute or two for him to come, and he’s motionless on the sheets afterwards, apart from the still-gasping breath and a faint tremble to his body. Drew takes in the sight and gets himself off quickly - under normal circumstances he’d be embarrassed at how quick it is, but he doubts Mustafa’s paying any attention.

 

After a second to catch his own breath, he moves to untie Mustafa’s ankle, then his wrists. Happily, he’s mostly unmarked, but Drew kisses his wrists regardless, amused when Mustafa still doesn’t grab at him like he normally would. He moves back down to run a hand over Mustafa’s sweaty hair, amused when he blinks at him, clearly still trying to mentally make his way back to Earth.

 

After another moment, Mustafa takes a deep, shuddering breath and wraps an arm around Drew’s waist. “Okay,” he says, “you win this one.”

 

Drew tries not to look smug, and probably fails miserably.

  
  


__________

 


End file.
